


22. Hallucination

by givemesomewings



Series: Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Actually I am a little sorry, Anyways, Cinnamon Roll, Drugs, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantasy, Insecurity, Its also not really any drug use, Its just implied and barely mentioned, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, More Cinnamon Roll torture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not even that really, Self-Doubt, Self-Reflection, Sorry Not Sorry, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, hallucination, please enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-27 10:17:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21117134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemesomewings/pseuds/givemesomewings
Summary: Red huffed softly. He slid his shades on, his piss-poor attempt at hiding the fresh pain he was feeling. Frank would always see right through the walls he built around himself. Knock them down and walk right up to Red. Hold him.





	22. Hallucination

**Author's Note:**

> Frank is injected with a hallucinogenic drug on one of his and Matt’s nightly patrols.
> 
> This was written for the Whumptober 2019 prompt: “Hallucination” and beta’d by the amazing simplykayley. Kinda inspired by the song “26” by Paramore.

“Frank, please calm down. You’ll hurt yourself,” Maria whispered as she stroked his face. A concerned expression painted across her own.  
  
Frank stared up at her. He was shocked. He was honest-to-God speechless. But how could he be anything else? His baby, his wife, was here. Right in front of him.  
  
“Lie still, baby. Please.” She did her best to smile reassuringly down at Frank, worry still written across her beautiful face.  
  
Frank hadn’t even realized he was moving, but once he concentrated he noticed that he was sweating. No. Those were tears. Pouring out of his eyes like a Goddamned faucet.  
  
He was stretched out on his back, sinking deeper into the soft mattress in the master bedroom. His wife was perched on the edge of the bed.  
  
“... Maria,” he whispered stammering and stuttering over that one word like a fucking kid. The tears were flowing like a fucking river. God, he was worse than the babies.  
  
“Who else would it be, Mr. Castle,” she joked quietly. She scooted closer, caught his tears with her fingers, splayed across both sides of his mangled face. “Nobody but me better be touching you like this.”  
  
Frank wanted to reach up and wrap his hands around his wife’s, but he couldn’t lift his arms. No matter how hard he tried, his useless arms wouldn’t fucking move.  
  
“Goddamnit!” He grunted as he thrashed against his invisible restraints.  
  
“Easy, Frank,” she said, using the same voice she used whenever Lisa or the boy got too fussy. Firm but soft, all at the same time. That was his old lady. Tough as nails. A kiss on the lips and a kick in the teeth all wrapped in one.  
  
She never was much for any of that sweet shit. Those big romantic gestures that you see in the movies. Nah, his baby was happy enough just to have him near, his arms wrapped around her waist. An old Sinatra record blaring on that ancient radio that looked more like it belonged at one of his old marine bases than on his kitchen counter.  
  
But Maria had loved it. It belonged to her grandmother or something. And if it made her happy, Frank was Goddamned ecstatic.  
  
He’d sway along to the music as best he could. He could tear through an entire army of terrorists with precision but put him on a dance floor and he had two left feet. Best he could hope for was that Maria would slow down enough for him to grab onto her, enjoy the view.  
  
He’d dance with her now if he could just move his Goddamned arms. He yanked his arms and yelled in frustration when they remained at his side.  
  
“Maria, what’s... what’s going on?” He looked down at his wrists and then back up at his wife.  
  
“What did you say, Frank?” she asked him, sounding more troubled than before. She looked off to the side at someone Frank couldn’t see, wasn’t interested in seeing. He didn’t want to look at anyone but his wife ever again.   
  
That was until he heard two small voices both clamoring to be heard over the other.  
  
Frank had somehow moved to the old worn out Lazy-boy in the middle of his living room. He didn’t know how and honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass. All that mattered was perched on the edge of that same piece of shit chair, her legs draped over his. All that mattered was the two pairs of small feet running toward him and then skidding to a stop right in front of him.  
  
“Dad!” Frankie yelled. “Come on, let’s go play catch!”  
  
“No way,” Lisa said, fixing her little brother with an annoyed glare. She was looking more and more like her mother every day, but she was her daddy’s girl, one hundred percent.  
  
“Daddy, you promised to finish teaching me how to ride my bike!”  
  
“You should already know how to ride your bike by now, you stupid baby,” Frankie yelled at her.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Frank scolded, fixing his son with a meaner version of the glare Lili had just given him. “Don’t you talk to your sister like that, you hear me?”  
  
Frankie looked down, wearing just the right amount of shame.  
  
“We’ll play catch after a quick lesson with your sister, all right?” Frank wanted to reach out to pat his son’s head but these fucking arms of his. They were draped over the armrests of the chair and they wouldn’t Goddamn move.  
  
He let out a primal scream, willing his hands to move. He realized too late what he’d done, looked up and his babies were staring at him, fear clear in their eyes. Like they weren’t sure who he was.  
  
“Frank, please,” Maria said. She was looking more worried now than before, and that was saying something.  
  
He didn’t want to be the one to put that look on his woman’s face, on his kids’ faces. Fine, he wouldn’t touch ‘em. Getting to look them in their eyes and tell them that their daddy loved them. That she was his old lady, and he was her old man. Always and forever. That would have to be enough.  
  
“You know that, don’t you?” Frank looked at Maria, the tears welling in his eyes all over again. “You and the kids, I love you. More than anything.”  
  
God, he must have looked fucking pathetic. Grown man, ugly bruises all over his face, bawling like a rubber-faced clown. He looked like a real piece of shit, but he didn’t care. Not as long as Maria knew.  
  
But she hadn’t answered yet. She was looking off to the side again, this time she was whispering to whoever the fuck was interrupting their moment.  
  
“Maria...?” he asked, craning his neck to get a better look at what was going on but he couldn’t see over the head of the Goddamn chair.  
  
“Yeah, Frank. I... I know,” Maria intoned. She was making a face Frank had never seen before.  
  
They were on another bed this time. No, a couch. Shit was hard as a fucking rock. He couldn’t get comfortable on this thing even if he could move his damn arms.  
  
Frank looked up at her. She was bathed in multicolored lights. Red, blue, purple all flashed across Maria’s face, now more hidden than before. He could barely make her out even though she wasn’t even a foot away.  
  
“Maria, what’s-“  
  
“Frank,” Maria interrupted him softly. Her voice sounded different, too. “Do you know where you are?”  
  
Frank looked around, a room slowly taking shape around him. It was vaguely familiar, but he still wasn’t sure.  
  
He tried to reach out to his wife, not the least bit surprised when his arms didn’t move. He just sighed and looked up at her.  
  
“Maria, what’s going on?” he said, starting to feel a little nervous. He wasn’t too proud to admit he might be getting a little scared.  
  
Maria reached out and placed a hand on his chest, so quick he didn’t even see it coming.  
  
“Claire, his heartbeat’s spiking,” Maria said, her voice silky and deep.  
  
Frank recoiled in fear. Shit, now he was way passed scared. He was fucking terrified.  
  
“Claire!” Maria yelled.  
  
“I’m right here, Matt,” a woman said, but not his. “Hold him down. He needs another shot.”  
  
Frank damn near jumped out of his skin trying to get away from whoever these fuckers were. He did his best to back away from them with his bum arms and limited mobility.  
  
“Who the fuck are you?” he said in a raspy whisper. He wanted to yell, but the pitiful whimper was the best he could do.  
  
“Frank, it’s me. Your...” a man cleared his throat before letting the end of his sentence fade off into nothing.  
  
The woman sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Matt? Just hold him still.”  
  
The man reached for him again, and Frank pressed further into the shitty chair. “No,” he whimpered.  
  
The guy still grasped his shoulders, doing his best to keep Frank from wiggling too much. Then the woman pricked him. Fuck, that shit stung.  
  
“Get the fuck off me,” Frank murmured.  
  
“Frank, please. I don’t want to hurt you. I would never want that,” the man said. He stroked Frank’s face, just like Maria had.  
  
“Get the fuck off me,” Frank repeated, this time gathering enough energy to snarl at him. “You’re not her. Stop fucking pretending.”  
  
The man’s hand froze, and he slowly recoiled. The energy in the room had changed but Frank was so far off his ass from whatever that bitch had given him that he didn’t notice. Wouldn’t care even if he had.  
  
“Matt,” the woman said slowly. “He didn’t mean... He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”  
  
Red huffed softly. He slid his shades on, his piss-poor attempt at hiding the fresh pain he was feeling. Frank would always see right through the walls he built around himself. Knock them down and walk right up to Red. Hold him.  
  
Shit, wait? Red was here. Frank was more than a little confused.  
  
“I know, Claire,” Red mumbled. “You don’t have to say anything.”  
  
“Matt, he knows that’s not what you’re doing. He feels the same way about you that you feel about him,” the woman pressed on. Apparently, she could see through Red’s bullshit well enough to know when he needed cheering up, too.  
  
But Frank didn’t stick around to hear what Red had to say to that. He faded into unconsciousness too quickly to do anything else but fall back into his master bedroom. He would sleep again. Sleep until Maria came to wake him up the next morning.  
  
He’d take her and the babies out whenever he came to. Maybe to that park they all loved so much. They deserved something good. Maybe... Maybe he did, too.  


**Author's Note:**

> as always, i hope i did these amazing characters justice. please lmk if you enjoyed it!
> 
> also, you should all listen to 26 by paramore. it’s amazing.
> 
> hmu on tumblr/twitter! @maniskordaze


End file.
